Tag: End

Gospel 257 ~Never Mind Weather For Sex~

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I’m not in the mood. I remember Braxton being in his room when I had women over, and he only liked one. I had to give him the talk after he got a bit paws on. He’ll never meet the one. Never Mind Weather For Sex, but I am, was a single dad.

Monday, March 15, 2021

Gospel 257 ~Never Mind Weather For Sex~

Hundred And Seventy-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and while the weather ALWAYS permits, the spirit has no mood now.

You didn’t think this would ever happen to me, huh, Madam Justice? Don’t worry, you’re not the first woman to ask me about this. My second BFF asked me about having lady friends by. It was more or less a confession to M Anime with my new asexual ideas, yep. Braxton is not to blame since this has been going on since last year. He’s only been gone forty-three days. Hell, with this weather, I could send him out to play. How about all those early morning showers getting ready for work while he slept. I’m still cleaning my phone. It’s not like I don’t get hot and horny. I could even be wrong about thinking of this as asexuality at all… abstinence, celibacy, MONK.

I’m not a religious man Madam Justice but when it comes to Braxton? Well, I’ve said I’m going to Hell, and I was aiming for the second circle. Of course, there is my anger and rage, which is the fifth circle. What I did forty-three days ago, well forty-four January 31. Treachery, betrayal, is the greatest sin and also the coldest, and that’s how I feel, Justice. Tupac said, ain’t a woman alive that can take his Mama’s place. My Mama is back to her usual self. So here I am; I can’t get a hug from my Mom, and even if I had a girlfriend. Honestly, I only want to hug my best friend again. I want to be warm. I don’t deserve it.

As the songs go, Sitting Here In Limbo, Highway To Hell, Stairway To Heaven. Yes, I know Limbo is in Hell, and that’s probably the best way to describe it. I’m still reading Eric Vall’s titles. I’m downloading all manner of stuff but preparing to cancel all of it now. Being hot is one thing and cold another but lukewarm? I’d give anything to be cuddling with Braxton right now. Let’s walk on the coldest day of the year. I still remember rushing him to the vet when he was dehydrated and staying up with him all night with hope. Pardon me, but no piece of ass will make up for that wagging tail. The weather’s no problem; it’s Braxton being gone; it’s been forever.

Never Mind Weather For Sex

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 250 ~Consider Threats Like Any Invitation~

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I killed him. I’ll never forget it was my fault, my responsibility, my failure. When my Olds moved, I said to him, “Get in the car, Braxton.” inviting him into my life. He gave me the gift of his. If I had known… Consider Threats Like Any Invitation.

Monday, March 8, 2021

Gospel 250 ~Consider Threats Like Any Invitation~

Hundred And Seventy-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but Braxton IS priceless…still. The things I bought to keep us safe.

I grabbed my gun last night when I heard noises coming from downstairs. Once “something fell,” I never figured out what. So I grabbed B III and left him upstairs as I took one of my knives and my phone to go looking everywhere. Easy to be black and die. Not that I mean to be political today, or am I sick of crying every morning? So many times, I’ve said my biggest fear IS leaving him. Not once did I consider he would leave me. I’m not STUPID, but B is going to live forever, I would tell myself. I’d die protecting my boy. When I saw his sickness, it was like, Braxton is strong, a fighter, he’ll beat it; “there goes My Hero.”

Like his Old Man, he could be a villain too. Braxton and I had our fights from time to time. Hell, how many times did I swear I would never become like my “father?” I have a whole house to hide in, and B III will hide under the bed. God, don’t make me terrifying. Madam Justice, one of my favorite ways to wake up in the morning would be Braxton and me back to back. I would be facing the door, his greatest enemy, and he would face alarms. Yeah, one of the reasons I finally made it back to the table… I hate my Day Job, so write. Write about all the enemies we had, people, places, and things. Brothers against the world

It would be easier to count out those things that brought us peace. Yet again, why I hate myself, I brought Braxton into a life of fear, so much so that he would seek it out. Even when there was nothing there, he would bark as though to ward off evils I could not stop. The Dog Stop told me that Braxton IS so mean because he wanted to protect me always, but when it was my turn? I wanted to protect everyone from him.

Suppose I’d been braver, more brazen, appreciative of the beauty of this whole world. Finding bliss, a semblance of peace. Holding him on that last day, it wasn’t that. When he became mine, “Get in the car, Braxton,” I said. Consider Threats Like Any Invitation

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 243 ~Cheap Words Cost More Breaths~

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A song goes; a penny for my thoughts. I’ll sell them for a dollar. All I want is my best friend back. I keep asking, but I keep confessing too. He’s not coming back, and I’m guilty. And if I had the right words… Cheap Words Cost More Breaths yep

Monday, March 1, 2021

Gospel 243 ~Cheap Words Cost More Breaths~

Hundred And Seventy-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it cost me around three hours to say that every day.

How much of that time could have been spent with Braxton? Hell, with as many times as I said NO to him over the years. Why couldn’t I have died with him? Careful, right, Madam Justice, with those kinds of thoughts. Not that I care so much what happens anymore. You know the list of my most hated words? Please keep in mind people have been calling me crazy forever. To be driven insane with Braxton’s passing? Ain’t I ashamed of myself for not talking this much about him when he was here. Let me say his name for all. Braxton Barks Bradford. That will bring on a few more bleeps and bloops from the hackers and scammers. My boy, his name, what a world

One in which I break down crying that I forgot to say goodnight to him on Friday. I can’t forget; I won’t allow myself to forget. Dammit, Madam Justice, it’s only been one month. The shortest month of the year, his birthday. B III would have been sixteen only now… Yeah, I’m not asking him what he wants for it. “More fries, Daddy. Can I have more fries?” A few fewer trips to McDonald’s. No more calls to Banfield or setting up appointments at the groomers. I’d gladly pay the price; at least then, my breaths would have some purpose. Braxton was worth every single one. I would talk to myself often enough, my Olds would tell you. At least with B, I could pretend.

It’s still called Denial. I speak in the mornings, at night, outings, and for medicine. Other than that, the house is dead silent, give or take background noises. It’s colder but without Braxton’s barks, breaths, or beating heart. The people outside are more annoying and enraging. Madam Justice, might I add forgetfulness. I don’t remember the last words I said to my son before the end. We were both quiet in the car because he no longer had the strength, and my words didn’t matter that trip. Actions, it’s the actions and what was mine, Betrayal. “I’ll help you,” “I tried,” I’m sorry,” “I love you,” “goodbye,” I am a broken record. “Let’s go home.”

Cheaper, of course, but to keep breathing? Hell’s My Debt. Cheap Words Cost More Breaths.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 236 ~Zen Ends Butt Kicking Deserved~

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I don’t want peace, and the quiet is killing me. Let me have my exhaustion and with what my eyes have been doing lately, tuning out, tearing up, taking down every bit of pain as if it would stop my own. “Zen Ends Butt Kicking Deserved”

Monday, February 22, 2021

Gospel 236 ~Zen Ends Butt Kicking Deserved~

Hundred And Seventy-Six Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m still not angry about Braxton. Well, how do I know I started talking to you Friday. Say it with me, Madam Justice AHEM “Time-Travel.” What I know for sure is this? I’m not Zen. I don’t know what’s what anymore. I’m still reading anything and everything, well, after crying that Braxton isn’t curled up against me. It’s my fault. I’m the one to blame. Talk about a butt kicking deserved. I have those pamphlets on grief the vet gave me. To this day, I believe I’m in Denial, but Anger?

I don’t know how to describe it. Every morning when I wake up, the living routine. You know when I sleep, I’m gone though I’ve begun to dream again. Nothing about B III, only pain, and don’t tell me you can’t feel it in dreams. I’m usually shocked then, waterworks. Most of the time, I’m on autopilot. My mom asked me do I watch a lot of Dish; anything to break up the silence. Only what I mean is, it’s like that movie Warm Bodies, and I’m “R.” What do zombies do? Who was R before Julie and then without her? B’s not coming back. But what peace I knew…again routine, Denial. Braxton is only outside or under the bed. I joined a club about dogs, but I’m finding people much like myself. Madam J, I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. So then I look for more pain and for what, my catharsis?

“It’s easier not to feel. Then I wouldn’t have to feel like this.” R – from the movie Warm Bodies

Disgusting, but how about wishing it was me? I’ll be damned if an animal is in pain. My Braxton suffered. People though… You know the song, “the dreams in which I’m dying…” My side was hurting; I thought I got bitten by something, wishing sicknesses. I’ve been eating more. Now I’ve starved myself for at least a week, but now food is the punishment. I said before I’ve been craving things like onion rings, chocolate, Burger King. Anything Braxton can’t have or that breaks my routine and increases my shame. Some time ago, I saw the police, and while they can pick anything at all… My killing Braxton. I’m Eddie Murphy in The Golden Child; I should be punished, purged, never purified. Hell’s not scary.

Living like this… peace, any thought of Zen’s the crime. Laugh, Smile, Funny Face, Braxton. Zen Ends Butt Kicking Deserved.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 229 ~Beds Are Not Substitute Graves~

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Braxton would let me stay in bed, but he also knew how to get me out of it and then at the end… Hell, I would have joined him if I could’ve. Only for now, at least I’m up wanting to remember, to hold him, but Beds Are Not Substitute Graves.

Monday, February 15, 2021

Gospel 229 ~Beds Are Not Substitute Graves~

Hundred And Seventy-Five Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but does Braxton want to be with me forever? Always and forever in my heart, of course. Even now, a piece of him is around my neck. What about everything that is on my nightstand? I’m sure even today (Time-Travel, it’s still Saturday, his birthday). He wouldn’t want me to spend all day in bed mourning. No, that’s what we did on my Emergence Day. A bed has plenty of purposes, but it’s not as a grave. Being in a warm bed is pretty heavenly, which explains why I’m out of mine.

I’m also sure a bed isn’t made to be a shrine; again, we return to my nightstand. It’s been two weeks now or will be, and I keep Braxton’s last collar in his bed. His favorite plaything sits on his pillow in his room. Despite losing him, as I said on “that day,” they’re staying. Braxton’s bed is not exercise equipment, no matter how heavy it is to carry. With everything I have to heave at the Day Job, nothing compares. I keep thinking the whole world could tumble down, crushing me, only B III, bedding, daddy’s breaking heart. They’re not time machines either. As I told you before, I move my son’s bed to the right spot when I leave. Hell, just now, where do you think his pillow is with his toy? Right under the table as I talk to you. I’m still waiting for Braxton to go out, standing by the door.

That’s his territory, the backyard. Indiana Gone asked me where I would scatter his remains… I’ve only cried twice today, and it’s not yet 8:30 in the morning. Madam Justice, honestly, I only opened “the box” once. Inside’s a blue cloth, farther… didn’t wish any disturbance. Well, again, other than the pendant, I’m still wearing. Do I want to keep what’s left of my son sitting there dark? A bag of his hair, a clay paw print, even the certificate of his cremation? 5.5 x 8.5, how dreadful is that wanting to keep it representing Braxton. February 4, by the way, where was I when that was happening? In bed saying that it should have been me than him, honest. Today of all days, though, I’m out of bed, not living really. Existing, Remembering, and Thinking for now at least. Beds Are Not Substitute Graves

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Episode 119 ~On The Willing End~

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I was willing two work on two off days, to give myself a massive case of blue balls, to stare into my darkest temptations, let’s say choosing Silver *shudder* over Gold but what does it take to win. “On The Willing End” no, live on “the winning end.”

Sunday, October 28, 2018

Episode 119 ~On The Willing End~

To Will:
How To Make One Million Dollars, maybe I should tell you that “dad” is going to come by here and kick your ass, after all, it worked in summer school, you’re still here after all those years. What about catching feelings at work, the last time that happened, the 5th of November, nearly got you fired, not to mention turned you off of black women, well she was more Zoë Kravitz, Alicia Keys looking and it’s not like white women are any better.

We’ve talked about this forever but what got you back to these conversations hmm; you start talking to some cute brunette but you compared her to a porn company, and now you spend time trying to prove you’re not skeevy, sleazy, or sex-crazed, how’s that going? You can ask the other brunette that was sitting on the couch that you felt up, what’re those two words, treating women with “dignity and respect,” which leads to “stop, no, and don’t” NOT or “I’m sorry” or “asking forgiveness rather than permission.” One of these days you’re going to have to write down all these trigger words or write anything at all f you’re going to be a NaNoWriMo winner but do you feel like one as of late *sigh* Six Impossible Things:

1. I Will Keep It In My Pants (Day 016 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
Completed (Day 023 No Fap)
2. I Will Be The “Father” My Dog Deserves
Failed
3. I Will Review Sell My Soul (Sixty Days #1) by Jade West
Failed
4. I Will Write A “Horror” Short-story
Completed
5. I Will Finish Depredation By Natalie Bennett
Completed
6. I Will Edit At Least One Chapter of “Apocalypse Rush”
Failed

50.5 back to F’s but if you’re thinking about numbers, make it the money that you’re earning… yeah, that’s a joke, the days you’ll spend on NaNoWriMo which starts this week or the constant threats it takes to get moving along. Why is it so many bad things that can get you going forward but of all the good there is nothing, it’s like being back in the faith, of course, you can’t earn your way into Heaven, but you’ll do whatever it takes to avoid Hell? You’re not moving forward to a goal but doing what is necessary to not get, a foot in the ass and that doesn’t mean winning it means willing but these Six Impossible Things:

1. I Will Keep It In My Pants (Day 023 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
2. I Will Be The “Father” My Dog Deserves
3. I Will Review Sell My Soul (Sixty Days #1) by Jade West
4. I Will Review Depredation By Natalie Bennett
5. I Will Finish Dancing In The Dark By T.L. Martin (Goodreads)
6. I Will Edit At Least One Chapter of “Apocalypse Rush”

Again you shouldn’t run because you fear the worse, you run because you can’t wait for the good, even today you were being pulled forward by that thing in your pants, and you’re kicking yourself because of it, and you’re wondering why you’re never going anywhere. Wanting to put your foot in someone’s ass and then kicking your own for something STUPID you did; another thing on Facebook today for example, if you can learn to “respect” your name Will, if you’re triggered by it, why not the word “Winning” instead of forever and always being On The Willing End.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 006 ~My Number’s Up, Again~

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I got lucky once, but I won’t dodge a bullet the second time and how I tend to count on so much or more like the times I’ve seen disappointment to be sure but I’m far from zero to be sure. My Number’s Up, Again

Saturday, July 7, 2018

Episode 006 ~My Number’s Up, Again~

Hey Lady Lu,
Give Me One Reason not to die though I feel that way regularly, not precisely suicidal; there was a time though I got a speeding ticket and I had no money and figured I only had three weeks to live; life or death how it always is with my father just saying.

Fifteen Hundred words, it took me so much time last night because of all the pretty girls, but I’m still hanging in there, “No Fap” and all, Day 119 and counting but today aren’t I suppose to do five thousand words? Am I giving up, am I making excuses, and I going to say that I won’t do it, I could go back to sleep of course and there it is, I could, between talking to you, writing that review on The First Purge, etc. Talk about being at a loss for speech because there is nothing I can say, keep writing and then asking myself what for, would I find myself published the week after next maybe a millionaire?

Forty-Six dollars is forty-six dollars, and already that’s gone, I figure I’ll go to the bank anyway because I have to find some way to keep the blog afloat and remember when I started it only took around eighty bucks. It’s also not helping that I’m thinking of some retail therapy, not to sound like a sexist but if sex is such a taboo subject, I can see why women are always buying stuff… coping.

Twelve hours, six-hour shifts, two days, I dodged one bullet when it came to working in shoes, but I won’t get so lucky this time, cleaning, what did I say yesterday about being illiterate because I don’t understand what I’m doing. What about the concept of “I’ll think about it” translating to my dumbass boss as “he’ll do it” dammit Lady Luna clearly like my father. If I were doing any writing you would think I’d write more black men as villains instead of somewhat anti-heroes, remember who the real enemy is, here I am a black man, and I can’t stand MOST black people.

“… but the truth is that I dislike most men as much as I dislike women. If anything, I am an equal opportunity misanthropist.”
― Andrew Davidson, The Gargoyle (2008)

Now none of these numbers will honestly kill me, well at least I shouldn’t feel that way but you know “Anxiety” but that sounds like an excuse, and I have a million of them. Now yes I was doomed on day one (but it’s only July) *sigh* I’ve got to use my imagination to show why My Number’s Up… Again.

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 364 ~How To Stop Writing~

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Talk about a question I should never ask if I’m going to make a future not just for me, myself and I but also my son as well because home is where the heart is, and he could use a rest, but there is so much work to do to now. How To Stop Writing

Saturday, June 30, 2018

Lesson 364 ~How To Stop Writing~

Hey Lady Lu,
Can You Love Me Again, did you ever stop after my long hiatus, why even call it that, didn’t I quit… strange that I don’t have an excuse for that when I have them for everything else but the stuff I don’t want to do, how many days do I miss the day job. Yesterday I figured I’d get something real done and I did begin writing my story “Apocalypse Rush” working title of course not that I’ll ever finish with editing.

I find that I have that same empty feeling as I usually do at The Closing Of The Year that promise of I’ll do better, and it never comes; if I am grateful for anything today, it’s that my “father” isn’t arriving by which I mean more time to worry next week. How about the fact that I have to cut the yard tomorrow, I have to make it dog-friendly but hasn’t my whole plan been to find us a home, I mean a real place not owned by others built by my success *sigh*. I keep coming back to this speech I heard that when you want success (wisdom) as badly as you want air, that’s when you’ll be successful, and that’s the problem.

Am I going to use suicide as an excuse, I’m not that dramatic today but how else do you stop writing because the clock shouldn’t serve as an excuse, my wants, and desires, hell the needs that I’m skimping on anyway. I can talk day and night about fear but that shouldn’t be it either, I gave in yesterday talking to GoDaddy about my blog and as Mr. Dink put it “Very Expensive.” How about the concept that I’m writing so I’ll have time for other things but for now shouldn’t everything be about writing anything other than more excuses?

Writing is more a conversation for Lady Sophia I take it, but what started all this was a BITCH, and you would think that would be enough, I don’t want to say fear or anger because that is giving her too much credit. Is that the answer, forgiveness, future, forgetfulness probably some other F words to be sure or maybe there is no end, I wouldn’t want to go all Fahrenheit 451, but I do want to play Detroit: Become Human so answer “you don’t” question How To Stop Writing.

I Will Have No Fear

When Rules Yield

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When does it become a rule, advice, some idea, a belief that suddenly becomes something that can’t be broken and then again all great leaders break the rules, only to bring about new ones and the like? “When Rules Yield”, time to make rules

How high do you want your crown to be?
A big head, hopes, dreams, wishes, or a word to the sun
that everything it touches belongs to me
So let it be written, so let it be done

As I will go the distance
without exception, excuse or edict
Where truth has always found admittance
Read it, See it, Believe it

Like you were stoned by God himself
Or she wasn’t a princess, an angel, a goddess but a girl
who could fly as high, and was as deep as any nuke in the Commonwealth
And yet the world

Is hers, yours, mine… am I a fool
Weighed, and measured, found wanting to rule

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Kid Rocks

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What’s my age again, what’s my age again, wait that isn’t heavy metal but all people have it in them literally, or on them, and I suppose I’m only getting heavier at my age. Kid Rocks, because am I growing up, I wanted to be an astronaut, help Atlas.

Stoned, however, it’s known
as heavy metal plays on my phone
I know I must be a pain

for Atlas carrying the Earth
Perhaps a sapphire is to blame

Because all that glitters is not gold
or silver, diamonds, and I was told
It doesn’t matter what’s in a name

A stone will crush us all the same

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.